The Pallid Realm

January 31, 2012
By FlowingTao BRONZE, Blacksburg, Virginia
FlowingTao BRONZE, Blacksburg, Virginia
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"The man who has no imagination has no wings"- Muhammad Ali

A man with no voice set foot on the earth’s surface for the first time, decamped of previous life. His indomitable stature revealed a past of conquered suffering. His name was Simon and he had no remembrance of himself or the world he was dwelling in. Simon saw this world as a newborn. He had no knowledge of good or evil, hot or cold, safe or hazardous. He knew only one thing; this world was that of disconsolate grey.

Simon stepped forward beguilingly, as if he had no choice. He walked past deep caves and evil tarns. He walked carefully through trees of ashen hate. The sky was a collage of phantasmagoric images. He had not seen them before, and he was not frightened. They danced as if in a demonic revel. He tried to imitate the dark festive dance but fell. It was as though the images in the sky were trying to surcease his existence. Simon’s fall resulted in an unequivocal head abrasion. As he made impact with the cold ground, he remembered a woman’s face. She had an unfeigned face and rubicund skin. Melancholy immediately came to his heart. He yearned for knowledge of this woman. He vociferated into the malicious woods.

As Simon lay on the ground, a beldame came to him and stood silently as her brocade fluttered in the effortless wind. As Simon opened his eyes, the old woman looked at him with intensity that moved him, but startled him as well. He stood up abruptly. He wanted to ask her innumerable questions, but no words came to mind, and no sound escaped his mouth. She tilted her head as she studied his face and movements. Her name was Mazelina and she indicated that she had no capability of speaking by removing the brocade from around her shoulders, neck, and chin. She evinced that she too had no tongue.

Simon, searching for answers, decided to walk with Mazelina in hopes that he may come to a better understanding of the dark realm in which he was in. The two of them walked along a tarn of fetid fumes and for the first time, Simon saw who he was. His reflection showed a handsome man still early in life. He stared at the dark mirror showing his face until he knew who he physically was in sooth. The beldame came to his side and motioned onward.
Simon and Mazelina traveled for a lustrum. The two of them knew as much as they could of each other without words. They were both in search of something more. Neither knew what the other was thinking. Confusion became a common part of their reality. Simon and Mazelina walked over hillocks as well as mountains. They never came upon another living soul.
As the days went by the sky became ensconced in dreary gloom. As they were sitting on a rocky peak of a magnificent cliff, that gloom was cracked by lightning. A fissure in the sky formed unleashing the darkest nightmares and wickedest entities imaginable. The two of them sat at the top of the mountain for days hoping the fissure would soon mend itself and ease their suffering. The sky showed no pity. Winds of anguish controlled by Aeolus chilled their bones. Rain fell hard as if tears of a weeping deity. Thunder shook the ashen world into unbearable anger.
The fissure closed itself up, inhaling all the chaos it produced. Simon and Mazelina held each other tightly in aghast, and as the last raindrop hit the top of the tattered cliff, Simon saw the light fading from Mazelina’s eyes. She reached out and touched his face. At that denouement, Simon felt a surge of emotion and memories. He remembered who he was, and as Mazelina’s hand fell to her side, he saw the woman with rubicund skin. Overwhelming sadness took Simon. The Houri that he had known in the past was indeed the same woman he had traveled with for years in search of what was right in front of him.
Memories of life, love, amatory, and happiness were taken deep into his soul. Simon realized that wherever he was, he was gone for well over five decades. He had left behind the only person he had ever loved and let her grow old without him. Her name repeated in his mind. He screamed. He screamed as blood spewed relentlessly from his mouth. He screamed so that the Pallid Realm in which he was in would show fear and sorrow. He stood up and let himself fall from the malevolent cliff in hopes of a brighter world and a new life with Mazelina.

The author's comments:
This is a short story inspired by Edgar Allan Poe and Gothic literature.

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